


It's all in my head

by nekoya



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Poor Tony Stark, Post Infinity War, Seriously Dark, not happy thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 22:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15128777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekoya/pseuds/nekoya
Summary: After the Infinity War Tony experiences his greatest loss yet and he doesn't know how to cope. In response to his depression and unhealthy alcoholism, he starts to see things...and it might be too much for him to bear.





	It's all in my head

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Please do not read this if you are triggered by suicidal thoughts or actions.

When you've lost everything, what was the point in trying anymore? Sometimes, it was easier to just hurt instead of trying to fix things. Fixing things is hard when you don't have the strength anymore. It's even harder when you don't even have the pieces to make things right again. Tony Stark, billionare playboy philanthropist, was nothing but a broken man, defeated in every possible way.

He reached for another bottle of whiskey and quickly threw back the contents, savoring the heavy burn of alcohol as it slid down his dry throat. The burn was dull and not nearly as pleasurable as it used to be. No matter how much he drank it never seemed to fill the gaping hole where the ghost of his arc reactor sat. The hole that was left when he lost everything and everyone he ever cared about. Alcohol didn't help anymore, and when he couldn't even be consoled by the only thing he knew wasn't that a sad thing? Tony rummaged through the mini bar, looking for something stronger, anything that could take him away from this horrible reality. It took him a few moments until he realized he was all out of booze, which wasn't the first time this had happened but surely a spectacular feat either way. He thought about finding more but he didn't have the energy to leave his penthouse. Besides, he didn't want to face Captain America or the other survivors.

Suddenly swept with a flurry of emotions, he threw his empty bottle at the bar, creating a waterfall of shattered glass. It felt good to break things, to make things as broken as he was. His body swayed in and out of consciousness. Between the black and white he saw a flicker of warm brown eyes and a smile.  
Hazy eyed and hurting he picked up a long shard of glass, wondering why he was even alive.  
It should have been me, not him.

He tickled his index finger along the edge of the glass until a dollop of blood escaped, and didn't that feel good?

Tony wondered what it would feel like if he cut even deeper.

"Mr. Stark."

His head snapped up, eyes wild, searching for the voice that called his name. He didn't dare to hope, but it was achingly familiar. He squeezed the shard in his hand out of fear, gashing his palm in the process. Rivulets of blood painted the floor, distracting him, calming him.

"Mr. Stark, please stop."

Tony turned towards the voice, and his heart almost stopped when he saw him.

Peter Parker was standing a few paces away, skin looking pale and body seeming small in his spiderman suit. His chestnut hair was still covered in titan dust and his eyes were tired.

"Don't give up."

He blinked once, then twice just to make sure his eyes were not deceiving him. When Peter was still there pinning him with a look of concern, Tony concluded that he was probably hallucinating. Despite his logic he wanted to pretend that this was real and that Peter was really back. Because if this were real there were so many things Tony wanted to say to him. He wanted to tell him he was sorry he let him die. He wanted to hold him and tell him that he loved him.

However, the only words that managed to escape were fragmented and indifferent, "I don't know how to fix this one, Pete."

"Of course you do. The world is counting on you. I'm counting on you."

He took a step closer towards Peter, feeling confrontational, "Why me? I can't do anything right. I'm nothing but a failure."

"You're not a failure, you're a mechanic. You fix things."

Tony laughed coldly, "Not this time, kid. I'm no _magician_."

He spat out the word bitterly since it reminded him of Stephen Strange, the traitor that let him live at everyone's expense. Why he spared his life of all people, Tony had no idea. He only knew it was a lost gamble.

"I believe in you," Peter said with earnest. His eyes shined with hope and admiration for a hero that Tony never was, "You'll figure something out like you always do, and then I'll be able to come back home."

He stared at Peter who was so hopelessly naive and almost felt the tendrils of hope warm his heart. But it wasn't real and Peter wasn't coming back. Tony knew it was impossible with the busted gauntlet and a broken band of Avengers there was nothing else he could do.

"Stop it!" Tony shouted angrily at the imaginary Peter before taking a few shaking steps back, "You aren't even real. This is all in my head...It's all in my head," His legs gave out as he crumbled to the floor, "Christ, I'm finally losing it."

Tony looked up at Peter who was kneeling beside him, and even in his hallucinogenic state, Tony thought he looked beautiful. Maybe there was a way.

"I love you, Peter."

Peter's eyes widened in surprise before they softened, "I wish you would have told me that sooner."

"It's not too late," Tony lifted the shard in his bloodied hand.

"No, Tony, STOP."

Tony gave him a sad smile as he slit his wrist with a shaky hand. He rested his head against the battered minibar, watching as blood ran down his wrists at an alarming pace. Dying was a surreal feeling. Everything felt like he was underwater as he slowly faded away, and he never felt more at peace. He could feel his breath grow cold with each second and his pulse weaken under his skin, like he as slowly fading away...

As his life slipped through his fingers, Peter's presence grew with clarity. He could see the worried look on his face, he could almost touch him...but something was holding him back and suddenly he was being dragged to the surface.

In the darkness he could hear Stephen Strange's annoying voice, _It's not your time_.

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling a lot of thing when I wrote this and I almost didn't want to post it but I had to get it off my chest. This was supposed to be a one shot but I left it open ended because I had a couple of ideas. I'm not sure if I might expand on this story but if you think I should let me know!


End file.
